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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104255">Un furto a Firenze</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomisedmongoose/pseuds/randomisedmongoose'>randomisedmongoose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stobotnik surprise [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breaking and Entering, Fluff and Humor, Heist, M/M, Madrigals, cappuccino not lattes this is Italy you heathens, gratuitous violence towards art</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:20:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104255</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomisedmongoose/pseuds/randomisedmongoose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The good doctor needs a couple of rare da Vinci sketches to study, and Stone agrees to help him break into the Uffizi Gallery. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stobotnik surprise [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Un furto a Firenze</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookingwithcyanide/gifts">cookingwithcyanide</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Takes place during the epilogue to “The time since then”. As soon as I included it I knew that I just had to elaborate on their little "honeymoon". As cookingwithcyanide said, let there be heists and shenanigans! Full disclosure here: I don’t speak Italian and and I’ve never been to Florence or the Uffizi, so if I get a lot of shit wrong here it’s totally on me. About 25% of this fic is me gushing about my love for Rennaissance art and music. Git inspired, yo!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robotnik was squirming. For about the fourth time this late morning, Stone tried to calm him down.</p><p>“Doctor, please. Just... <em>try</em> to act casual.”</p><p>Robotnik looked at him, slightly wild-eyed. “I am supremely uncomfortable in these unfathomably ugly excuses for garments, Stone!” he hissed.</p><p>Stone sighed. “It was hipster couple or matching tracksuits, doctor – and your moustache would have clashed horribly with neon-green polyester. Besides, I think you look quite dapper in suspenders.”</p><p>Robotnik glared at him from under his beanie. It didn’t fit him at all, neither did the chequered flannel or the jeans. Stone looked decidedly more at ease in his rolled-up shirt sleeves, dress vest and bowtie. He gestured with his pipe.</p><p>“It’s a question of stealth, doctor – we’re in one of the most visited spaces in Europe, which means that we need to blend in.”</p><p>“We didn’t have to be stealthy when we broke into Area 51!” Robotnik was practically pouting.</p><p>Stone looked at him in equal fondness and frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m <em>not</em> going to let you drive a tank into the Uffizi, doctor. Area 51 was just, you know, soldiers, they knew what they signed up for. These are <em>civilians</em>. Also, full of priceless art. Besides, I’m proud of you for exercising so much control there, you managed to contain the number of actual casualties to just that guy who tried to jump me.”</p><p>The doctor looked somewhat mollified. “I can be surgical when I want, Stone.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know, and right now is the time when I need you to be just that. Please trust me, doctor. You’re the genius, but I’m the agent. It’s not a question of intelligence, it’s a question of experience.”</p><p>They were sitting in the piazza della Signoria, sipping cappuccinos and studying the masses of people going in and out of the world-renowned museum. The Gallerie degli Uffizi, funded as a way of preserving the vast and precious collection of the Medici family, contained many priceless works of art including some of da Vinci’s work – the reason they were here. Stone unfolded a visitor’s map of the Uffizi and placed it over the empty plates on the table.</p><p>“The sala di Leonardo contains some of the artist’s most beautiful work apart from the Mona Lisa, but that’s not where we can find your quarry. What we want can be found in the locked galleries, which are only open to staff, visiting scholars and certain dignitaries. Given that we’re both fairly high-profile, not mentioning that you’re dead to the world and I’m AWOL, trying to go the ‘fake identities’ route is too risky.” The agent took a sip of his coffee. “Hence the disguises. We’ll blend in with the crowd, join a tour and follow it until we get to our destination. Then we’ll create a distraction and enter the locked area.”</p><p>“Here’s where we want to go.” He tapped a spot on the map that had no legends or detail, just the shape of the building. “The Department of Prints and Drawings, in the first-floor galleries. All around here are offices for the curators, antiquarians and archivists, as well as study halls, archives and workshops. We need to get into the archive. I’ve found the placement of all of the master’s catalogued works that exist here – when we get there, I’ll keep guard and you’ll find the ones you want. Since it’s Sunday there should be minimal to no staff there.” He handed the doctor a short list.</p><p>“Right. I <em>suppose</em> we can do it this way,“ the doctor conceded as he scanned the list. “And you said there was some sort of alarm system?”</p><p>“Yes, numpads to get in to the locked section; visual sensor-based alarms and security cameras as soon as we’re in.”</p><p>The doctor picked a tiny bot from his pocket and let it hover just above his palm. “A localised piece of malware to loop the cameras and disable the alarm system should be all the effort we need to expend on their no doubt pathetic security system.” The little bot bobbed up and down like it was eager to go wreck stuff. “The numerical codes are child’s play. I literally cracked those things in preschool.”</p><p>Stone smiled. “Excellent. Then grab your camera – it’s time to take the tour.”</p><p>They left their table, crossed the piazza and joined the crowd filing into the museum. Two tickets, a cloakroom and a metal detector later (which did nothing since the doctor’s weapons were designed with precisely this in mind, and did not show up on scans), and they were in.</p><p>The tour started on the second floor. There were long galleries, filled with Greek and Roman sculptures; room after room with paintings by all the great masters. The architecture of the palazzo which housed the galleries was breath-taking in and of itself. Stone was highly impressed. He’d always been an admirer of classic art, and had hoped to be able to visit the great museums of the world someday. Usually, when he had found himself in these kinds of spaces, he’d either been busy with an assassination or bodyguard work – either way his focus was never on the art. He especially remembered that he had missed looking at the Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque because he had been chasing an Australian right-wing terrorist. But this time he actually had time to look around, as it was part of their whole ruse. He listened, enraptured, at the guide gushing about the complex architecture of the Tribune, and felt more at ease than he had been for years. Without realising it, he started humming.</p><p>“Hmm, hm, hmmm… <em>Tasi, tasi Franceschina, ninina, bufina, la fili bustachina, che te daro mari, nini la fili bustacchi</em>…”</p><p>“You weren’t lying when you said you couldn’t speak Italian. What was that complete gibberish, Stone?”</p><p>The agent jumped, surprised by the doctor sneaking up on him. “Oh, um, sorry, I didn’t realise- it’s a madrigal, doctor. It’s a form of renaissance music-“</p><p>“Don’t patronize me, I’m well aware of what a madrigal is, agent. But that answers my question, then – it’s Italian as spoken 500 years ago.”</p><p>“As well as some nonsense words, yes.”</p><p>Robotnik was looking at Stone with an odd sort of expression. “Always with the <em>surprises</em>, Stone. I never pegged you as a lover of early classical music. Well, I can’t fault you for getting inspired by such magnificent surroundings.”</p><p>Stone smiled. “I’m glad I can still surprise you, doctor.”</p><p>The tour continued. It proved to be somewhat complicated to get Robotnik out of the Stanzino delle Matematiche, since he was completely busy alternately laughing at and admiring the historical scientific instruments. Stone slowly realised that the doctor was having a good time as well. Robotnik kept up a low, muttered commentary of all the tour guide’s factual errors, translated any Italian text for Stone and ran up to paintings and sculptures with brief bursts of excitement.</p><p>“Let’s go down to the lower galleries, to see some more of Caravaggio’s paintings…”</p><p>The rest of the tour was leaving, following the talking tour guide. Stone looked around for Robotnik, and found the doctor standing, enraptured, in front of Artemisia Gentileschi’s “Judith Beheading Holofernes”. He got up and stood beside the painting so that Robotnik could see him.</p><p>“Time to go,” he murmured.</p><p>“Hm? Ah, yes. Just look at that! Remarkable woman, don’t you agree?”</p><p>“Who, Judith?”</p><p>“No, you moron, Artemisia! Look at how she’s captured the conviction and power in Judith. Such a splendid portrait of someone who knows what she wants and is not afraid to get dirty to get it. Someone so utterly ruthless and assured in their own convictions.” He sighed. “Just imagine how much more she could have done with a badnik.”</p><p>“Ah. Yes. We need to go, ok?” Stone led the way, trying to get the image of Nebuchadnezzar's army getting gunned down by a flock of badniks out of his mind.</p><p>They followed the rest of the tour down to the first floor. After passing a number of rooms with French and Flemish painters, they stopped for a while in the main gallery to admire some sculpture. Stone, who had been following their route on the map, caught Robotnik’s eye and nodded slightly towards an unassuming door with a numpad beside it. The door was marked “Gabinetto dei Disegni e delle Stampe” with a smaller plaque underneath that said “Soltanto per il Personale”.</p><p>Robotnik grinned and picked up a little contraption from his pocket – not the malware-laden one, Stone noticed. He deftly activated it and pulled on his nanoglove.</p><p>“Quick, Stone, which one of these is the least interesting artwork?”</p><p>Stone panicked. “Wait, what, why?”</p><p>“Too late – ip, dip, dip, <em>trip</em>.”</p><p>The doctor released the little bot and it zoomed right towards a bust of Cupid close to the guide, farthest away from them in the gallery. Robotnik entered some commands on the glove, and the tiny machine zipped in behind the statuette and pushed. The resulting crash was loud in the spacious gallery, and all eyes were suddenly on the destruction. Robotnik whirled around and quickly typed on the numpad. The door opened with a <em>klick</em> and he pushed Stone inside. The little bot slunk in just before the door snapped shut, and Robotnik caught it like a baseball. The whole thing hadn’t taken more than 10 seconds.</p><p>“<em>Doctor!</em>”</p><p>Robotnik wiggled his eyebrows and put the machine back in his pocket. “Eyes on the prize, Stone. Besides, some of them were just copies.”</p><p>“And did you know that <em>that one</em> was a copy?” Stone sputtered.</p><p>“No,” the doctor replied carelessly, and released the second bot.</p><p>Stone pulled his hands down his cheeks and counted to ten as the little machine did its job. It hovered beside the closest security camera, then interfaced with it for a few seconds. The camera blinked a couple of times, then resumed its slow sweep of the room. The bot then zoomed over to the motion sensor, interfaced with it as well, and the red light on the sensor blinked out. As the bot was delivering its malware payload, the doctor had concentrated on the door, putting a couple of small but strong magnets by the doorframe, making it impossible to open without pulling the frame out.</p><p>“Ta-daaah,” Robotnik said, wiggling his fingers. “Now we won’t be disturbed.”</p><p>They continued through the empty offices until they came to a door marked “Archivio”. The numpad was no match for Robotnik, and they entered the archive. Row upon row of floor-to-ceiling filing cabinets, operated by big wheels, lined both sides of the long, climate-controlled room. The doctor consulted the list Stone had made.</p><p>“Section 34, row 9, box 4B.”</p><p>"But I was going to- no, sure. Got it.” Stone rushed over and turned the wheel. One after the other, the large cabinets moved to the side, allowing him access to the section. He quickly found a piece of paper and, after pulling on a pair of cotton gloves he had in his back pocket, picked it out.</p><p>“Row 13, box 9F.”</p><p>“Right.” The next piece of paper was retrieved. Stone handed both of them to Robotnik, who took them in his gloved hand.</p><p>“Excellent work, doctor!”</p><p>“Naturally! Now, let’s get out.“</p><p>They rushed back to the main door. Robotnik had just pulled the magnets from the frame, when-</p><p>WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!</p><p>An alarm was ringing through the empty office. Red lights were suddenly flashing on the little sensor boxes.</p><p>“Damnation!” Robotnik quickly put the delicate documents in the little pouch he had sewn on the inside of the flannel. “What the hell, Stone, I thought you said that you were an expert at this?”</p><p>“I am! This shouldn’t have happened!” Stone hissed. “Didn’t you loop the security system like you said?”</p><p>The doctor bristled. “Do you take me for an imbecile? Of course I did! Expertly so! My bots never fail!”</p><p>“But how-?”</p><p>All of a sudden, the door broke open, spilling out three people, dressed in black, with masks and guns. Each of them was holding a big black bag, full of angular objects.</p><p>“<em>Che diavolo</em>?”</p><p>“What the hell?”</p><p>The two groups stared at each other in chock for a few seconds, until the tallest thief whipped a gun out and pointed it at Robotnik.</p><p>Stone reacted with speed granted by years of training. He ducked to the ground and rolled, springing to the side of one of the thieves, giving them a chop to the neck. The thief collapsed and Stone grabbed their gun on the way down, tossing it to the side. On the upswing, he knocked thief no. two’s gun upwards, making the shot miss Robotnik and lodge in the ceiling instead. The third thief made to grab him, but never got the chance as Robotnik had taken that moment to break their kneecap with a lightning-swift kick. They barely had time to breathe before five security guards came rushing in, flashlights and guns in hand.</p><p>"<em>Basta così! Cosa sta succedendo?"</em></p><p>Stone immediately put his hands up, lightly kicking Robotnik in the shin to do the same. Three of the guards subdued the remaining two thieves, while one kept an eye on Stone and Robotnik and the last one checked the vitals of the man Stone had put to sleep. The man guarding them started talking heatedly in Italian. Stone screwed his face up in a mask of good-natured stupidity and looked apologetic.</p><p>“Sorry man, no hablo Italiano…”</p><p>The guard rolled his eyes and sighed and switched to English. “You are tourists? What are you doing in this wing? No tourists allowed!”</p><p>Stone quickly affected a surfer dude type of inflection. “We got like, lost on the way to the bathroom, and then these dudes just came outta nowhere and just woosh, pointed a gun at us! I got really scared so I just punched one of ‘em, you know, like *guh* and then my boyfriend kicked the other in the kneecap like *crack*, you know? Shit, I didn’t know my kung fu lessons would be hella useful on a vacation, right?”</p><p>Robotnik turned and looked at him like Stone had begun speaking in tongues.</p><p>The guard looked from the groaning thieves to Stone. “So these men attacked you?”</p><p>“Yeah, man, it was like, totally unprovoked and stuff.”</p><p>The guard looked at his colleagues, who had managed to handcuff all three thieves. He nodded.</p><p>“<em>Grazie, è abbastanza, signore</em>, could you please wait here until the police arrive?”</p><p>What followed was an hour or two of questioning, much showing of false passports and assurances that they would not leave the country and of course show up as witnesses in an eventual trial. Stone could see Robotnik becoming more and more irritated. Finally, when the police had finally started to wrap up, a short man with a high forehead walked into the room, flanked by two men in suits and a woman in a lab coat and cotton gloves. The man walked up to them, beaming like a sun.</p><p>“Gentlemen!” he said in a German accent. “My name is Eike Schmidt, I’m the director. I would sincerely like to extend our biggest thanks! We would likely not have caught the thieves if you were not here. The Uffizi would like to show its gratitude towards you in any way we can.” He shook Stone’s hand, then moved to shake Robotnik’s, who took a step back and put his hands up with a small yelp.</p><p>“My, uh, my boyfriend is germophobic,” Stone cut in quickly.</p><p>“Oh, ah, I see,” the director said, rallying. “Well, in any case, our deepest thanks. Please accept these life-time passes to visit our galleries.” He handed over two laminated cards with Italian writing on them.</p><p>Stone accepted the cards. “That’s uh, like, really kind of you! But now, well, phew! Really exciting day, huh? I think we need to go to our hotel and calm down, don’t you, honey?” He looked pointedly at Robotnik.</p><p>Robotnik glared at him. “Yes! Yes, definitely. High pulse, increased adrenaline, medically sound to recuperate at this point. Hella sound.“ he added through gritted teeth.</p><p>“By all means, and again, our deepest thanks.” The director started to applaud, shortly followed by the other employees and by one or two of the more enthusiastic policemen.</p><p>They hurried out of the building which had now begun to close for the day, only stopping to pick their bags up. When they’d gotten to the other end of the piazza and around a corner, Robotnik spun around and waved a finger in the agent’s face.</p><p>“If you ever call me ‘honey’ again or use that abysmally stupid voice in my presence I will sew your mouth shut, are we clear?”</p><p>Stone broke into laughter. He laughed so much that he had to lean on the wall to keep himself up.</p><p>“Oh, fuck, yes, clear, absolutely, doctor. I just – so much for the not getting noticed, right?” He waved the two life-time passes. “You didn’t lose the papers, did you?”</p><p>Robotnik scoffed. “What am I, some sort of dim-witted common thief? Of course I didn’t.” The doctor carefully removed the papers from the hidden pocket.</p><p>They looked at the beautiful, yellowed sketches with their spindly backwards writing. One of them showed an exploded-view diagram of some sort of mechanical contraption with wings, the other was a delicate drawing of a beautiful young man, lounging on some pillows.</p><p>Robotnik lightly brushed the papers. “Aaaah. I knew it! This will give me the last piece I need for my project. Hah, Leonardo, the only man who comes even close to matching my genius.”</p><p>Stone suppressed another laugh. “And the other sketch, doctor?”</p><p>The doctor looked slightly embarrassed. “This? Oh, this is for you. I, uh, I thought it would be appropriate. You can put it in your room. Frame it, or whatever you please.”</p><p>They both stared at each other until Stone took the sketch and said, in a low voice, “Thank you, doctor.”</p><p>Robotnik looked away, still embarrassed, then adjusted his suspenders and threw his beanie into a trashcan. “Well, that was a day well spent! Let’s get some dinner, Stone – I know an excellent little restaurant not far from here.”</p><p>Stone smiled and very carefully tucked the little drawing into his backpack. “Whatever you think is good, doctor.”</p><p> </p>
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